


The Second Glimpse

by suckerfordeansfreckles



Series: More than just a First Impression [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Dates, Ice Cream, Kissing, M/M, Napping, Sharing a Bed, Soft Castiel (Supernatural), Soft Dean Winchester, Trans Castiel (Supernatural), Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24508981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckerfordeansfreckles/pseuds/suckerfordeansfreckles
Summary: Dean - 07:03:I know it’s crazy early but my apartment is hot as hell, my leg is itchy and I can’t stay in bed any longer. I kind of can’t stop thinking about having you here. Also about ice cream, I’d die to share some cookie dough ice cream with youIt fills him with something like giddy excitement, that Dean thinks about him, wants him with him. He’s fast when he types back, smile deepening.Sent - 07:05:You’re a true romanticDean - 07:07:I want to eat ice cream out of the tub with you all day, darlin
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: More than just a First Impression [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671838
Comments: 51
Kudos: 266





	The Second Glimpse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WingsandImpalas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsandImpalas/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift for my beloved [Zoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsandImpalas/pseuds/WingsandImpalas), who's the one we need to thank for this series even existing!!!
> 
> Zoe, I love and adore you and hope you enjoy this and have the BEST day! <3

Cas hears the buzzing of his phone and turns in bed, muffling a grumpy sound in his pillow. When he reaches out and switches his screen on, he can’t help but smile, no matter the early hour.

**Dean** - **07:03:**

I know it’s crazy early but my apartment is hot as hell, my leg is itchy and I can’t stay in bed any longer. I kind of can’t stop thinking about having you here. Also about ice cream, I’d die to share some cookie dough ice cream with you 

It fills him with something like giddy excitement, that Dean thinks about him, wants him with him. He’s fast when he types back, smile deepening.

**Sent - 07:05:**

You’re a true romantic

**Dean - 07:07:**

I want to eat ice cream out of the tub with you all day, darlin

**Sent - 07:10**

If we eat ice cream all day, we’ll just feel sick, Dean

Cas heaves himself out of bed after sending the message, stumbling towards the bathroom to take care of his morning needs.

When he comes back to his room, there’s a new message.

**Dean - 07:11:**

Spoilsport :(

He searches through his drawers for a fresh pair of underwear when his phone buzzes again.

**Dean - 07:17:**

So that was your way of gently letting me down for our second date? :’(

Cas huffs a laugh, typing back with one hand.

**Sent - 07:18:**

Second date already? 

**Dean - 07:18:**

Burgers in the hospital gardens, duh? Our first date couldn’t have been more romantic

**Sent - 07:19:**

You’re right, how could I not realize. I’m so sorry!

**Dean - 07:20:**

You better :P

While Cas gets out of his pyjamas and into some fresh clothes, careful with his binder and scars, Dean sends two pictures.

The first is of his chunky cast on what must be a couch table — a sad emoticon has been drawn on it close to the top sometime since Cas last saw Dean four days ago.

The second picture is a selfie, Dean’s gorgeously freckled face looking into the camera and pouting. Cas can’t really help it.

**Sent - 07:27:**

I’d like to see you and eat ice cream out of a tub with you until I feel sick. Let’s say 11:30? We could do the sensible thing and order lunch before we start the great ice cream fiasco

**Dean - 07:30:**

U really are amazing, I can’t wait

**Dean - 07: 36:**

I bring ice cream (from my fridge) and you bring your cute butt?

  
  
  


It’s 11:28 and Cas is standing in front of the door of Dean’s apartment complex, hands sweaty. They haven’t seen each other in two days, and though it sounds a little ridiculous, Cas is worried that Dean won’t like him anymore now, outside of the hospital and shared pain.

Well, the pain remains. But the other connecting circumstances fell away — and Dean could do so much better anyway.

When Cas presses the little button next to the sign that says “D. Winchester”, his stomach is doing weird jumps.

He waits long enough to feel his fingers tingling, until there’s finally a sudden tinny swear followed by a breathless: “Hey, this is Dean.”

“Hey, Dean, it’s… It’s Cas.”

“Yes! I’ll buzz you up, second floor, the third door to the right when you leave the elevator.”

The elevator ride up is awkward and Cas fiddles with the hem of his shirt until the doors finally open again and he can step out into a long white corridor. He doesn’t even need to count the doors, because one is already wide open, with Dean leaning against the doorway.

He looks a little disheveled, in blue basketball shorts and a black tank top that has Cas staring at his biceps and shoulders for a little longer than he’d like to admit.

As soon as Cas is close enough, Dean sways right into his space and hugs him, somehow placing his weight mostly on Cas shoulders and only making him wince for a second when the movement makes a shard of pain shoot through his chest.

“Hey,” Dean breathes against Cas’ cheek, hands squeezing his upper arms briefly before he’s swaying back against the doorframe. His smile is bright and happy when he says: “It’s really nice to see you.”

Cas can feel a blush forming on his cheeks and a smile stretching across his lips, which seems to become a regular thing whenever he so much as just thinks about Dean, nowadays. “It’s good to see you too,” Cas says, quickly trailing his eyes down Dean’s body where they linger on his heavy cast. “Let’s get you inside and sitting down?”

Dean grins again, and then he grabs for one of Cas’ hands to interlock their fingers. They make their way inside, with Cas closing the door behind them, and Dean hopping beside him through the living room towards where a big, old, comfortable-looking couch is situated in a light-flooded corner of the room. 

They take a few long minutes to catch up, Dean stretched out on the couch with his leg propped up on a light blue pillow by Cas’ hip, and it’s really nice to be able to talk about scars, healing, pain and all the gross things for once, without worrying of nauseating someone. 

“I tell you, this itch is killing me,” Dean sighs again, and Cas frowns in sympathy, moving one hand to squeeze Dean’s undamaged thigh. His bruises are turning a fading yellow and his lip is only the tiniest bit swollen by now. “But what’s also killing me is how goddamn hungry I am. How would you feel about pizza?”

“Pizza sounds perfect right now, to be honest,” Cas says, mirroring Dean’s smirk.

  
  
  


Their food arrives an endlessly long 43 minutes later, and then they just dig into their respective pizzas for a while, greasy cardboard boxes burning hot where they keep them on their laps.

Dean eats with bulging cheeks and speaks when he hasn’t entirely swallowed yet, and where Cas would find this disgusting with anyone else, Dean is nothing but endearing. It feels a little like he just  _ can’t  _ wait to share his thoughts with Cas, not even until the bite of pizza has left his mouth, and something about that makes Cas feel all fuzzy.

“Pride last year really was one of the best days of my life. Still so glad Charlie took me, y’know?” Dean mumbles around a last mouthful of pizza. “We’re gonna go again this year, if my leg allows. If you want, I’d love to take you?”

“I, well —” Cas stumbles, something warm unfurling in his chest as he watches Dean’s deep-green eyes. “I’d really like that, I think.”

“Awesome,” Dean breathes, fist-bumping the air. 

“I’ve never been, before. Didn’t really have anyone and I didn’t — I didn’t want to go alone,” Cas says, busying himself with wiping his hands on a napkin and getting up to collect their pizza boxes. 

“Now you’ve got me,” Dean says, and he sounds both a little unsure and entirely honest. Cas sends him a soft smile.

“I do,” he says, and then he steps away to get rid of their trash. 

“The — um, the trash can is under the sink,” Dean calls, watching as Cas wanders through his living room and into the small adjacent kitchen. “Thank you, Cas.”

When he returns to the couch with two spoons and the two tubs of ice cream he found in Dean’s freezer — Cookie Dough and Chocolate Peppermint Crunch — Dean is smiling dopily. 

“What are you smiling about?” Cas can’t help but ask, ducking his head as he sinks down across from Dean.

“Just like that you’re making yourself familiar with the place,” Dean says, voice full of happiness. “Also, ice cream,” he laughs, making grabby hands until Cas hands him Cookie Dough and a spoon.

Cas can’t deny that he spends the first minute or two, or maybe five, just watching Dean licking ice cream off his spoon and fishing for chunks of cookie dough and looking entirely too blissed out. It takes a while for Cas to even get started on his own ice cream, and even while eating, he mostly keeps his eyes on Dean.

Dean babbles along, talks about university and his family home and Vonnegut and TV shows, and in between sometimes he’d lick his lips and look up across the couch at Cas — and Cas melts right along with the Chocolate Peppermint Crunch on his spoon.

They do end up eating until they both feel a little sick, lips cold and sticky and stomachs full.

“I’m gonna explode,” Dean sighs happily, grabbing for the lid of his tub on the couch table beside them. “That was perfect.”

“I agree,” Cas laughs, getting up and taking the ice cream from Dean, closing the tubs and gathering the spoons and bringing them to the kitchen. He casts a quick look back towards Dean on the way, finds him grinning and looking after him.

When Cas returns without ice cream and with clean fingers, he finds Dean sunken into the couch and with a lazy smile on his face. He’s stretched out across the entirety of the couch, not really leaving any space for Cas to sit back down.

“Oh that’s — I’ll move to the floor then,” Cas says, stepping closer and stopping in front of Dean and the couch. “Is your leg hurting?”

“No,” Dean smiles cheekily, and then he repeats himself when Cas starts to sink down in front of the couch, drawn out and with more intensity as his arm shooting out to grab for Cas’ hand. “Nooo.”

“No?”

“No. Why’d you pick the floor when there’s all that space right here?” He gestures to his lap, his smile lascivious, but there’s a blush spreading on his cheeks. “If you want, I mean.”

Cas can’t help a snort of laughter, and Dean’s blush burns even brighter. 

“Sorry, that was. That was a jerk move,” Dean stutters, leaning up on his hands to shuffle back and make space.

“No, no, no,” Cas laughs, stepping even closer and placing a careful hand on Dean’s chest to guide him back down. “No take-backs.”

And then he straddles Dean, as careful as possible, kneeling on the couch on either side of Dean’s hips. Dean looks at him with wide eyes, mouth falling open as Cas settles right there on his lap, careful of his hurt leg. 

“I — We,” he mumbles, hands flying up to hover by Cas’ hips.

“Yeah?” Cas smiles, feeling his stomach shake with something anxious but excited. “What now?”

“I didn’t really think that far ahead, to be honest,” Dean says, and then his head falls back against the couch with a breathless laugh. He carefully lets his hands fall against Cas’ hips, fingers squeezing softly. “But this is nice?”

“Just this?” Cas asks, and he feels a weirdly shaky happiness settle deep in his bones. 

“Yeah, just — Just being close to you,” Dean murmurs. His eyes are drooping a little, but his smile is genuine. “Just you, and this.”

“You’re getting tired, huh?” Cas asks, allowing his hands to fall down and rest against Dean’s soft, warm belly. “We could nap a little?” The minute the words leave his mouth, he feels silly for just assuming, so he stutters: “Or — I mean, I could leave, of course. I don’t want to assume you’d —”

Dean interrupts before he can even finish, voice more alert but eyes still tired: “If you wanna stay and nap, I’d really, really like that.”

He’s looking up at Cas with soft, happy eyes, and his fingers are trailing along Cas’ hip in a way that makes something inside him ache. “Yes, sure. I’m getting tired too, with all the food we had.”

“To the bedroom?” Dean mumbles, making a weak attempt at getting up, eyes groggy.

“To the bedroom,” Cas agrees gently, helping Dean up and through the room towards his bedroom. He feels a little weird, intruding like that already, but Dean seems happy to let him, so Cas tries to temper down on the anxiety. 

They open the door and stumble inside, and Cas gets a quick glance around, finds white walls, a bed with a dark wooden frame and light-blue sheets, a big shelf filled with books. Dean has a pile of pillows ready to prop his leg on, which he does as soon as he pulled the curtains closed and sank down into his bed.

When he looks up at Cas, patting the other side of his bed, Cas longs. He longs for things he can  _ have _ , for the first time in his life. He longs for Dean’s touch and his kisses and his presence and  _ more _ .

For the first time in his life, he wants so much more. And he knows, feels it in his heart, that he can have it, with Dean.

So he sinks down on Dean’s mattress — “Memory foam, isn’t it heavenly?” — and wiggles against Dean’s side.

“Kinda hate that both of us have to sleep on our backs right now,” Dean mumbles drowsily, reaching down to pull his single blanket up above both of them. “But it’ll do for now.”

Cas turns his head to his side, watching Dean’s face for a bit, his tired smile, his dark lashes and lovely freckles. He watches until his eyes fall closed, and before he drifts off to sleep, he feels Dean’s hand inching closer so he can twine their fingers together underneath the cool sheets, and Cas’ heart is full.

  
  
  


Cas wakes up and Dean’s awake beside him, head turned towards Cas with the most gentle hint of a smile. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Dean whispers, raising a hand to Cas’ forehead, where he brushes away a strand of hair. 

“Hi,” Cas whispers, and his voice comes out so hoarse, his cheeks burn up with embarrassment as he clears his throat and tries again. “Hello.”

“Did you sleep well?” Dean asks, eyes flicking between Cas’ eyes and his mouth.

“Better than in my own bed, to be honest,” Cas says, and Dean huffs a laugh in response.

“Well,” he says, stretching the word as he leans up on one arm and looks down at Cas. “Might need to sleep over more, then?”

“I might,” Cas laughs, mesmerized with the way Dean is sleep-rumpled and gentle and all himself — no performance or seduction. Just Dean, soft and teasing and honest. 

“Yeah?” It’s a barely there whisper, as Dean leans down closer. “You’d go on a third date with me?”

“And a fourth and fifth and maybe even a tenth. I’ve you’ll have me that long,” Cas says.

“Longer,” is Dean’s response, whispered a breath away from Cas’ lips. “I know we just met but it feels just… right, with you. Like there will be way more than ten dates.” And then Dean finally closes those last inches between them and kisses Cas, soft but intense.

He’s twisted towards Cas, and Cas faintly hopes that he’s not hurting his ribs with this, but then Dean opens his mouth against Cas’ and all Cas can think about is how he’s aching for this, for more.

Dean moans softly, deepening the kiss when Cas raises his hand to his neck, cupping his stubbly cheek. 

And then there’s the softness of Dean’s tongue against Cas’ lips, and he’s the one breathlessly moaning. They take their time, kissing gently but with something burning away in their chests. 

When Dean pulls away, he only leaves the smallest of spaces between their lips, breath warm against Cas. “God, Cas,” he whispers, dipping back down for another kiss. “I just can’t get enough of you.”

There’s something twisting and wiggling enthusiastically in Cas’ stomach. “Neither can I,” he mumbles back, pushing his head up for another brief brush of lips. “It’s never — I’ve never felt like this.”

Dean looks at him, eyes wide and so incredibly green, and then he kisses Cas again only to move back once again and drop down on the bed beside him. He gently squeezes Cas’ hand when he says, eyes on the ceiling: “Me neither. And I’m kind of glad about it. I don’t want it — to be like it’s been before. I want to go slow, enjoy this, with you.”

“Me too,” Cas says, squeezing back. 

They bask in it for a while, the warmth and quiet happiness, before Dean interrupts it with the words: “Okay, let’s go educate you on Star Wars, huh?”

And that’s that — they spend the rest of their afternoon cuddled up on the bed, watching TV and cuddling. And Cas is aching, but in the  _ best  _ way possible.

There’s one more kiss, when Dean insists on accompanying him to the door and asks him, all shy again, for date number three in a few days. 

They kiss a little longer than is probably appropriate for a simple goodbye, but Cas is also pretty sure he couldn’t have left without this, even if he wanted to.

When he steps out of the elevator, he wears a smile almost as big as when he first saw Dean today.

He just  _ can’t  _ wait for Saturday and their sushi date.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me and my words on [Tumblr](https://suckerfordeansfreckles.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this! There's another part in the works...


End file.
